The confessions of an over packer

This blog post comes to you all the way from Whistler Village. Husband and I got to come along with two of our besties. The object of the trip? Film Whistler in its winter glory with the soon-to-be Bryce's.

So. Yesterday. After a mad dash around the house, I managed to pull together a suitcase for us consisting of a week's worth of clothes, thinking, "Yep, this should about do it for one night and one day."

I suffer from over packing syndrome. This is a disease. A psychological disease that even I don't understand.
But I have it.
My suitcase, duffel, and handbag are here to prove it.

And if you asked I'd answer, well yes, I do NEED two bathing suits. Yes, and the multiple choices of jewlery for my outfit. Ok, outfits plural. And YES. Yes I do need 5 shirts to choose from. You never know what clothing mood you might be in the next morning. And maybe, just maybe, I do need multiple bras, multiple pants, 3 pairs of socks {for the record, I wore them all}, 4 nail polish {also. Used this!}, three cardigans, and two jackets. That's not that bad. Is it?

I can feel the intense glare my Husband just gave me. Ok. Fine.

But. Really. I mean, whatever.
No one can say I go anywhere unprepared {Well, except for the fact that I'm notorious for over packing and yet, still forgetting something}. And, honestly, if you'd go travelling with me you'd love it. Cause I'd have everything and I'd be quite keen to share. You're welcome.

That's all I have to say on that. My chai tea latte sits infront of me waiting for my attention. Oh. And I guess the Husband also wants some attention.
Alright, Husband. I'm all yours.